


a hundred days after the end

by 10softbot



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: End of the World, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, dumb guys with powerful guns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 04:25:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17821847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/10softbot/pseuds/10softbot
Summary: It's a hundred days after the world ended and the bane of Doyoung's existence is life without wifi and Yuta's mullet.





	a hundred days after the end

**Author's Note:**

> god bless yas and her amazing ideas and [even more amazing art.](https://twitter.com/minyasih/status/1092911354900635653) thank you for setting off this lil spark and i'm sorry befrehand cause this is Bad
> 
> do not repost without permission.

Doyoung expected the end of the world to be a lot more dramatic than it actually is. He expected a meteor to hit them or some nuclear explosion – honestly, the world ending because of some shit nuclear war was the most likely to happen and yet. It is a hundred days after the so called apocalypse and it’s nothing like that. There is nothing on fire, no radioactive animals or humans walking around, it’s all just… there. Everything is there, mostly looking the same if only a little bit destroyed by chaos, but everything is still there.

He probably manages to be more dramatic than the end of the world itself. Which is tragic, he really expected some fireworks to go off or something. Instead, all he got from it was a headache that goes by the name Nakamoto Yuta. Like, he is a great guy and all, his best friend of years, but Yuta doesn’t fucking know how to stay still, and his legs are sore and his back hurts like hell and _yet_ Yuta keeps dragging him out and about.

“Can we stop walking for five fucking minutes,” he whines, a couple strides behind Yuta who’s walking very, very fast for someone who has short legs.

“I can’t keep going around with my pants looking like this, now can I?” he points out and Doyoung snorts.

Yuta looks absolutely ridiculous. It’s not really his fault that he has a hole the size of Nebraska on the back of his jeans – that would be on Doyoung for cutting the fabric off. It is his fault that he got it in the first place, though, and Doyoung is sure he will be forever grateful that surveillance cameras no longer work to have him on tape.

Doyoung tried telling him crossing a barbed wire fence for whatever reason he had in mind wasn’t a good idea, but Yuta hardly ever listens to him. It took Doyoung five minutes to stop laughing at him when his jeans got caught, and two extras to stop laughing at Yuta’s annoying whining. And then it was a ten minute walk to the nearest shop they had passed by so he could get a pair of scissors, and by the time he was back Yuta looked absolutely distraught.

Now it’s all just funny, except for the ache in his body. Just Yuta, casually strolling down the mall, ass cheeks out, covered in some terrible animal print underwear. It could be worse though – he could be wearing an anime tits underwear Doyoung _knows_ he still keeps it in his bag for some fucking reason, so he should be glad the situation isn’t more embarrassing that the necessary.

They have never been to this mall before. They are quite far from what used to be their home, so it’s only natural they don’t know where shit is around. All the stores they pass by have been raided already, though they don’t see a single soul around. It’s probably been a month since they last saw anyone, sans for that one guy Yuta blew off a couple weeks ago.

“What are you even looking for,” Doyoung complains again, the gun hanging on his back heavy and digging uncomfortably to his bones.

“Forever 21, obviously,” Yuta replies with a roll of his eyes, sticking his head around a corner to check.

“You think Forever 21 clothes are suitable for a post-apocalyptic scenario,” it’s not really a question, and Yuta doesn’t take it as one.

“Well, not really, but they have some cute shirts and I could really use some.”

Doyoung groans, quickening up his pace to catch up with his stupid best friend. He has always been surrounded by idiots, but this is worse than he could have imagined. Yuta’s rifle glows pink against his back whilst Doyoung’s glows blue, and it’s surprising they haven’t accidentally shot themselves by now.

The store is surprisingly well kept once they get there. Some stuff are clearly misplaced ad some others definitely missing, but it’s nothing like the broken mannequins and knocked racks they have seen in the other stores they have been through. Yuta makes his way to the back of the store, carefree as he can be, and Doyoung doesn’t hesitate to pull his rifle out just in case someone is lurking around.

“Jesus, Doie, can you relax a little?” Yuta rolls his eyes at him once he sees him holding his gun at eye level. “We would’ve heard if someone was here, you know?”

“Just take what you need and let’s get the hell out of here.”

All the while Yuta is going through the racks Doyoung has his back to him, eyes scanning the store for minimal movements. His fingers twitch for a moment, the memory of killing off three people at the supermarket two weeks after the apocalypse still ingrained in his memory. It’s either kill or get killed, and he is definitely not letting himself nor Yuta get killed.

“Hey, Kim, take this.”

Doyoung doesn’t have much time to register it before Yuta is throwing some articles at him, hitting him in the face. Doyoung lets his rifle hang off his shoulder, the weight uncomfortable but not unbearable as he looks at what’s being offered to him. he scoffs at Yuta, who blows a kiss at him.

“I’m not gonna wear this,” he says, showing the pieces to Yuta as if he didn’t pick them himself. “We have to keep walking around, I’m _not_ wearing this.”

“Come on,” Yuta whines like he does best, “bro solidarity? You can’t let me be the only one walking around like this.”

“I, in fact, can.” He stresses every word, and Yuta pouts. “But I _won’t_ , because I’m a _good friend_ , and you are a very terrible one.”

Doyoung feels absolutely ridiculous as he steps out of the dressing room. He is sure short shorts and a bunny print crop top is nowhere near a suitable end of the world outfit. The shorts do make his waist look pretty, but it feels like he will have his ass out any second whenever he walks.

He finds Yuta by the accessories isle, looking through some stuff he can’t really bring himself to give a shit about. As he pushes his rifle over his shoulder and lets it rest against his back once more, he lets his mind and eyes wander a little. Yuta is wearing some incredibly tight, high-waisted hot pants, pink crop top matching the shade of his hair. It goes well with the glow of his gun. Doyoung snorts at the fishnets around his legs – Yuta can be so extra when he wants to. Doyoung dreads all the complaining he is going to hear because of those clothes.

“Doyoung,” Yuta calls out once again, and he really doesn’t want to know what’s coming next. “Here, put this on.”

Yuta hands him a pair of bunny ears, and all he can really do is stare at it. He can’t possibly be serious.

“You’re joking,” he says, already knowing the answer. He isn’t.

“You have no one to impress,” he drops the headband into his hands, reaching for a heart-shaped pink sunglass and putting it on his own face. “Live a little.”

Doyoung wishes he wasn’t as weak of a man. He really wishes he didn’t comply to Yuta’s every wish, but truth is he couldn’t say no to him, ever. No matter how stupid or ridiculous or straight up absurd whatever Yuta was suggesting happened to be, Doyoung couldn’t say no and he hated himself for it. They have probably reached another state from how much they’ve walked, powered by Yuta’s sheer power of annoyance. Doyoung is tired.

And now, as they walk out of the mall and to the parking lot so they can finally get going, Doyoung really fucking wishes he could say no to Yuta’s idiocy. There is a red car parked near the entrance, loud music booming through the stereo, and Doyoung questions why his life didn’t end precisely when the world did. This is the worst case scenario: being seen walking around like a complete idiot.

Both of them take their rifles out by reflex, slowly walking closer to the car, careful with who might be in there. Doyoung supposes they mean no harm seeing as the guy sitting behind the wheel doesn’t really move, only stares at them in what seems to be wonder. He lowers his rifle down when they stop a couple feet away from the old but somehow well-kept Mustang, Yuta visibly relaxing next to him but still not putting his gun down.

“Careful there,” the guy says once he rolls down the window, an easily smile on his face. Doyoung frowns a little.

Yuta still has his gun pointed to the car, though Doyoung knows he isn’t actually going to shoot. He is making gunshot sounds with his mouth and Doyoung can’t help but roll his eyes at him, the other guy merely raising a brow at his antics.

“He has a mullet,” the guy loud-whispers to someone on the passenger’s seat the second the music is turned down and Yuta immediately lowers his gun, clearly offended.

“I can fucking _hear_ you, asshole.”

Someone pops their head over to take a look at them, a little gasp falling off their lips.

“Oh my god he has a mullet,” the little guy has a burnt orange hair and really good skin, and Doyoung wonders how much younger than them he is to still look this good.

“It’s called _fashion_ ,” Yuta tries to point out as he runs his fingers through his pink locks, visibly taken aback.

“Who are you guys?” Doyoung butts in, a feeling that Yuta will get really dramatic real fast and not really wanting to put up with his whining.

“I’m Johnny,” the guy behind the wheel says, hand over his chest, “and this is Donghyuck,” he then points to the boy beside him. “What are you guys doing here?”

Doyoung ponders for a while, weighing the reasons why he should tell them anything to begin with. All interactions they have had since everything happened ended up with someone being shot to death and he’s not sure he is ready to see more brains blow up again.

Yuta, of course, can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life.

“We had a little accident and needed some new clothes,” he puts his rifle back up, aiming directly at Johnny's head. Doyoung prays he won’t accidentally fire it. “I’m Yuta, by the way. This is Doyoung. He’s a bit of a stuck up bitch, but you’ll manage to get around it.”

“ _Excuse me,_ ” Doyoung scoffs. “I’m right here! And there is no getting around anything, we’re not sticking together!” He then turns to Johnny, who’s clearly seizing him up. “I don’t even know if I can trust you.”

Johnny laughs, sitting back on his seat. He gives Yuta an amused look. Yuta's still playing with his gun. “I’m sorry but we could easily take you down if we wanted to.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes at him. “Oh, please don’t get him wrong. He _knows_ how to shoot a gun when needed. Don’t make him do it, though, ‘cause I saw him blow someone’s brains off and I still feel nauseous about it.”

The boy – Donghyuck – gets out of the car then, and Doyoung can see the pistol jammed in his pants. He shouldn’t be surprised, but he can’t lie and say he isn’t a little taken aback by it. He doesn’t seem like a threat, and Doyoung's rifle is at least six times bigger than that, but even then his fingers curl tighter around the grip, finger ghosting over the trigger.

“Dad, I’m going in. I need more CDs.”

There is an awkward pause in which Johnny gapes at the boy, can clearly see the engines in his head turning.

“What did you just call me?”

Donghyuck pauses, mind seemingly drawing blank. “I called you Johnny.”

“No,” Yuta interrupts, throwing his rifle over his shoulder and popping a lollipop into his mouth. Doyoung doesn’t want to know how long he’s had that for. “You just called him dad.”

“No, I said _Johnny_ I’m going in.” He insists, backing away from the car and towards the entrance of the mall.

Johnny quickly gets out of the car himself, a smile playing on his lips. “Hyuck, do you see me as a father figure?”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes, scrunching up his nose in disgust. “If anything I see you as a bother figure.”

“In any case,” Johnny continues, clearly still not over it. “You’re not going in alone, it might be dangerous.”

“I have my gun on me, I know how to shoot.”

“We’re coming with you,” he says, and both Doyoung and Yuta raise their brows at him.

“What?” they say in unison, and Doyoung rushes his words out before Yuta can properly process it. “We’re not going anywhere with you.”

“Just show us around, hm?” Johnny insists, putting a hand on their shoulders and forcefully turning them around. “What would we get from killing you two off, anyway? Some terrible clothes and cheap sunglasses?”

“God you’re _mean_ ,” Yuta murmurs, turning to look at Doyoung. “I like him.”

Doyoung jabs him on the side with his rifle and Yuta whines, rubbing the spot as Johnny laughs. They speed up a little when they notice Donghyuck is way ahead and almost inside, unbothered by their antics.

Once inside, they let the younger walk ahead of them, leading them wherever he feels like it while they serve as backup security. Doyoung doesn’t think it’s necessary, for they have been there just minutes before and no one had showed up. Johnny says it’s better to be safe than sorry, and he finds himself agreeing to that.

“So, how did you two meet?” Johnny asks casually as they turn around another corner. Doyoung can see his gun under his shirt, yet he doesn’t make an effort to get it out.

“Back in middle school?” Yuta says, deep in thought, and it feels like so long ago Doyoung has trouble remembering it himself.

“That’s a pretty long time,” Johnny hums, nodding to himself.

“How do you know the kid?” Doyoung motions to Donghyuck, who’s looking over some store display.

He can see the way Johnny looks fondly at the boy. “He’s my boyfriend’s brother.”

“Oh,” he tries not to sound surprised, knowing damn well he fails miserably. “And where is your boyfriend?”

Doyoung regrets the question the second it leaves his mouth, and the way Johnny's expression changes makes him feel even worse. Yuta casts a glance at him but Doyoung doesn’t see it, eyes darting straight to the floor, grip faltering around his rifle.

“Shot dead not long after the beginning of the end,” he replies dryly, face and voice void of emotions. “Training Hyuck to be a great shooter was the only way I could be sure he’d be safe. I couldn’t protect his brother and I can’t bear to lose him as well.” He pauses, swallowing thickly around his words. “He’s all I’ve got.”

“I mean,” Yuta hesitates, toeing around his words. “We could be a team.”

Doyoung gives him a hard look, though it’s not heated like it usually is. He’s studying him closely, and Yuta gives him a small smile. Doyoung answers back with a small nod.

“We could,” he tries, voice breaking and he coughs it out. “If you want, we could be a team.”

Johnny doesn’t answer immediately, still seemingly deep in thought and Doyoung doesn’t blame him. They follow Donghyuck into a records store after what feels like ages of walking, looking over their shoulders for any and every move, guaranteeing the boy will be safe as he picks the things out.

The heartbreak in Johnny's silence, Doyoung knows it all too well. Yuta, too, is all he’s got left, and he couldn’t imagine life without him. Life without wifi is bad enough as it is.

Donghyuck loads his arms with records and stalks out of the store without a work, barely casting Johnny a glance and a nod. And as they walk back outside, silence a welcomed friend by now, Johnny takes them by surprise when he finally answers.

“Yeah, I think we can be a team.”

They file into the red Mustang without much ceremony, only making sure the rifles won’t go off by accident in the backseat. Donghyuck changes the CD playing and 80s rock music starts blasting off as Johnny drives off. The cushioned seat is a welcomed comfort Doyoung didn’t realize he needed that badly.

“We heard there’s people living somewhere far off in Russia,” Johnny says over the music, and Doyoung frowns.

“Heard from _who?_ We haven’t seen a single soul in ages.”

Johnny shrugs, and Doyoung can see the smile on Donghyuck's lips. Yuta leans in and lays his head in his shoulder. “We met this guy at the gas station a couple districts ago. Very talkative guy, had a lot to say. Hyuck blew him off when he tried to steal his chocolate bar.”

“He deserved it,” Donghyuck murmurs from his seat. “You should’ve let me use the machine gun.”

“The _what_ now?” Doyoung tries not to yell. Uselessly, and Yuta pinches his thigh at the volume. “Ouch.”

“We have a machine gun in the trunk,” Johnny says conversely, glancing to the side to give the younger not a stern look. “And there was no need for you to use it. You got him off with your pistol and that should be enough.”

Donghyuck grumbles. “I guess.”

“Where are we heading to, anyways?” Doyoung belatedly realizes Yuta has fallen asleep on his shoulder, drool starting to look on his shirt.

“The mountains,” it’s Donghyuck who responds, and Doyoung focuses on him instead. “My brother wanted to go there, but things got in the way and we couldn’t. So Johnny promised me we’d go there once the time was right.”

With the windows rolled down, Doyoung is finally able to enjoy the breeze licking his cheeks and messing his hair, threatening to blow his headband off. He reaches up to fix it and keep it in place. The speed in which Johnny is driving would have been unsafe weren’t the last ones around, so Doyoung just sits back and enjoys the ride.

It’s comforting watching the hours pass like this, finally being able to relax for the first time in too long. Yuta’s weight on his shoulder would be just as comforting wasn’t for the wet patch of drool he is starting to feel on his shirt, Yuta’s light snoring a constant background noise along with the car’s engine.

“So what’s the deal with you two?” Donghyuck asks, munching on a snickers bar.

Doyoung frowns, eyelids heavy as he watches the green meadows quickly pass by them. “What do you mean?”

He can see Johnny chance a glance at him through the rear-view mirror but the other doesn’t really say anything. Donghyuck turns around in his seat, staring right at him. It’s a bit uncomfortable, but Doyoung is never going to admit to that.

“I mean, there is certainly a lot of _tension_ between you two.”

Doyoung squints his eyes. “I’m not sure I’m following you.”

“He wants to know if you two are fucking,” Johnny snaps, throwing Donghyuck a dirty look that goes either completely unnoticed or entirely ignored. “That’s what he’s asking.”

Yuta stirs in his seat, readjusting his head on his shoulder. Doyoung freezes, hoping he won’t wake up in this exact same moment. “ _Where_ did you get that from?!”

“Oh my god he’s clueless,” Donghyuck sighs, sinking back into his seat.

“What?”

“Johnny, it’s like I’m watching you and Yongie all over again,” he telltales dramatically, clutching his chest for added effect. “Do you think they’re gonna make me hold their hands and drag them into a closet as well?”

“Okay Hyuck first of all,” Johnny slows down a little, looking at Donghyuck as he speaks, “don’t be so dramatic. We weren’t _that_ bad.”

“I’m right here,” Doyoung chimes in only to be ignored by the two.

“Oh you _definitely_ were that bad, though they might be a bit worse.”

“I’m literally _right here,_ ” he tries again and Donghyuck turns to look at him again.

“So here’s the thing: once we get to our destination – which is likely going to be a random house we can chill in for the time being – you’re either gonna talk things out with him or fuck him ‘til sunrise. Got it?”

“I literally cannot stand him,” he tries weakly, trying to keep his heartrate at bay. “And who are you, little man, to be telling me what to do? I can annihilate you with my rifle.”

“Machine gun,” Donghyuck sings out, turning back around to face ahead. Doyoung clicks his tongue, annoyed at how Johnny just laughs at them before speeding up again.

 

By the time they manage to find a house that isn’t left to ruins it’s already well into the night, Johnny fumbling with the flashlight to get some lights going for them as Doyoung and Yuta keep guard in case something happens. Nothing does happen, and when the house lights up Donghyuck actually squeals from his spot in the car, thumb running over his own pistol.

Johnny and Donghyuck volunteer to set things up and maybe cook some dinner for them, Johnny giving him a stern look and motioning to the back door with a nod of his head. Doyoung sighs, grabbing Yuta by the wrist and dragging him out again.

It’s nice like this, grass tickling his neck as they lay down to watch the stars. Doyoung can’t remember the last time they did something like this, always on the move to protect themselves. He wishes he could be as free spirited as Yuta is, his presence alone soothing to his nerves.

“Hey, Yuta.” He calls out, watching as a particular star shines brighter than the others. Yuta hums in response, acknowledging him without actually looking. “You ever think how crazy this is?”

“What exactly would you mean by _this?_ ”

“You know,” he coughs, words suddenly stuck in his throat, “us, being stuck together and all that.”

“I think it’s neat,” Yuta says simply, shrugging a little. “Don’t think I’d want to go through all this with anyone else, really.”

Then there is silence, and Doyoung doesn’t really know what to say. He isn’t good at talking feelings, much less acknowledging his own feelings. Yuta keeps talking.

“You know, Johnny’s pretty hot.”

“Oh,” he doesn’t know what to say at the sudden comment, a bitter taste on his tongue.

“I think it’d be nice to fuck him,” he keeps going and Doyoung feels like death. “He’s probably got a nice dick. Have you _seen_ his size?”

He has. “Can’t say I’ve noticed.”

“But you know why I don’t wanna do that, Kim?” Doyoung can hear shuffling, Yuta turning around to face him. He takes a while to turn around himself, Yuta’s gaze burning holes through him. “Because I like you, Doyoung.”

Doyoung stares at him like he’s grown two heads. “What?”

“Remember when we were sixth grade and we kissed under the rain after one of my soccer practices?”

He does remember. He remembers it perfectly, how sweaty Yuta was, how his socks went from white to completely brown from mud, how his hair stuck to his forehead and made him look so funny. He remembers the weight of his guitar hanging on his back as he waited for Yuta to run across the field and how awful he felt the moment it started raining again.

But none of that really matters compared to the burning image of Yuta smiling so widely as he ran towards him, the laughter that bubbled up his stomach and burst out when he approached and saw Doyoung looking absolutely miserable, the feeling of his arms around his neck and his lips on his.

Doyoung remembers it all too perfectly, and they haven’t brought up that incident ever since it happened. He swallows thickly around the lump in his throat.

“I’ve liked you since then,” there is a small smile on his lips, and Doyoung loves how his pink hair frames his face. Yuta looks heaven-sent, though he doesn’t think he will ever say that out loud. “I’ve liked you since then and I didn’t think I’d ever have the courage to say it out loud.”

“Yuta–”

“But you know, the world has ended and everyone we knew either went away or died off. It really is just us now and I don’t have anything else to lose.”

The wind blows dramatically over him, blowing Yuta’s hair out of his face. Doyoung can see how sincere his eyes are, how there isn’t a hint of doubt under the words he say. He wants to reach out and cup his cheek, bring him in and kiss his lips again but he doesn’t. instead, he just stares at him, brain going into overdrive.

“Though it would be great if you did, you don’t have to like me back” Yuta nods at his words, smile fading a little. “I don’t wanna lose your friendship over some stupid feelings.”

“They’re not stupid,” Doyoung chokes out, coughing again. “Your feelings, they’re not stupid.”

Yuta is the one staring at him now and he really, _really_ wishes he were good with words in situations like this. But he isn’t, so he resorts to the one thing he thinks would convey his feelings perfectly.

He reaches a hand out, cupping Yuta’s cheek carefully, thumb running over the skin. Yuta eyes him carefully and before he leans in and closing the gap, pressing their lips together just like they did all those years ago. Only that now there is no rain, to screaming of running kids around them, only the ringing of his ears and the pounding of his heart.

And Yuta melts under his touch. It’s nothing more than just that, an innocent press of lips. He doesn’t urge on and neither does Yuta, and before any of them think of deepen it, they break apart at the sound of the back door opening.

“We have some food ready,” Johnny’s voice calls out, and Yuta smiles up at Doyoung.

“Coming!” the older says, smile growing impossibly bigger. He looks beautiful like this. “You know, I used to think you’d never fuck me even if I was the last man on earth.”

Doyoung frowns, clearly offended. “What why?”

Yuta shrugs. “But now that we’re here and we’re actually one of the last ones standing I take my thought back.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes at him, getting on his feet and helping him up. “You are quite literally the worst. And I hate your mullet, it’s the bane of my existence.”

“No you don’t,” he says cockily. “You actually love me.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm like really sorry??  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/10softbot/) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/10softbot)


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